


The Festival of the Moon

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 11:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Our arrival was rather poorly timed.” / “Ain’t it always?”</i> Ben, Polly and Jamie were having such a nice day until they were arrested for trespassing. Fortunately, the Doctor manages to talk the temple guards out of beheading them. All they have to do is get married. To each other. In which Ben and Polly are confused about their feelings, Jamie is amazed and perplexed, and the Doctor is unperturbed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Festival of the Moon

“He ain’t half taking his time, is he?” Ben nudged her. Polly hmmed in agreement. The Doctor’s _little chat_ with the authorities – _just to clear up the misunderstanding, you see_ – did seem to be dragging on, rather. They’d been waiting for a good quarter of an hour while he and the woman in charge – at least, she had the tallest headdress, so Polly assumed she was in charge – argued back and forth, both gesticulating wildly. They were just far enough away that Polly couldn’t make out what they were saying. It wouldn’t have made a difference if they were closer by, seeing as she could only understand one in every three words the local people said.

“I hope everything’s alright,” she said, which seemed a dreadfully inadequate thing to say when they were trapped in a cell. 

But it was hardly the worst cell she’d been trapped in. For one thing, it was open to the sky, more of an alcove in the walls than a cell. For another, the spears held by the guards blocking the exit looked more ceremonial than deadly. And it was a beautiful day, the sky overhead blue with clouds in every colour of the rainbow, the sun shining brightly, but not warmly enough to be uncomfortable. They’d been having quite a nice time exploring the gardens, before the guards had found them and penned them in here.

She was quite content to stand around for a while longer, and so was Jamie, probably, who was still quietly taking in the rainbow-coloured clouds, the sparkling lights than bedecked the tree-tops, the smiling gargoyles lining the walls. He pointed mutely upwards. Polly looked, and saw kites shaped like black and white birds dipping and swooping about in the heavens.

“’Ere he comes,” said Ben. He nodded at the Doctor, ambling back towards them, his hands clasped together, the look on his face quite unreadable.

“Well,” he said. Jamie started and tore his gaze away from the kites. “We seem to have caused some offence.” _Some offence_ didn’t really cover all the shouting there’d been when they’d been found wandering the flower garden, but Polly didn’t say so. “Our arrival was rather poorly timed.”

“Ain’t it always?” muttered Ben. The Doctor ignored him.

“Best as I’m able to gather, this is the temple of the local moon goddess,” he said. “And today is, ah, her festival.” He paused as if that explained everything, only going on when he got three confused looks. “It’s a festival of nuptials.”

“Eh?” said Jamie.

“A wedding festival,” Polly explained. She turned to the Doctor. “That still doesn’t explain why they shut us up in here.” 

“Oh!” the Doctor exclaimed, as he if thought he’d already explained that part. “You see, today the only people allowed in the temple are acolytes and priestesses – these ladies –” he gestured at the guards with their ornamental spears, “– and newlyweds. We, of course, are neither, and so are trespassing.”

“What are they going to do with us, then?” said Ben.

“Well, the penalty for tresspassing is death –” The Doctor was drowned out by a chorus of outraged shouts. He had to shout to explain himself. “Oh, do calm down! It’s alright. I’ve sorted it out.” He looked ever so pleased with himself. Polly wasn’t sure if she ought to be relieved or just plain nervous.

“What did you do?” she said.

“Well, you see,” the Doctor began. “We wouldn’t be _trespassing_ , per se, if we came here with the intention of _becoming_ newlyweds.” Polly got his meaning at once, but she let him go on in the desperate hope that she’d misunderstood. “So naturally I told them we came here to get married, and got turned around in the labyrinth.” _Naturally_. He took advantage of the stunned silence to go on. “It’s alright. There’s the right number of us.” He counted them off, _one, two, three_ , and himself, _four_. “Four. That makes two couples.”

“You did _what_?” said Ben, apparently only just digesting it.

“But we cannae get married,” piped up Jamie. “We’ve only one woman.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” said the Doctor cheerfully. “To these people marriage is a kind of agender celebration of love rather than a reproductive union –” At Jamie’s blank expression, he trailed off. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“What do we have to do?” said Polly doubtfully.

“It’s quite a simple ceremony,” said the Doctor. “And then we’d be free to enjoy the festival.”

“Or leave,” said Ben.

“Or leave,” the Doctor echoed. He clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s settled. All that’s left to do is to decide who’ll marry who.” At their dismayed expressions, he added, “just for today, you understand.”

Ben, Polly and Jamie looked each other up and down, all of them, she was sure, equally unenthused at the prospect. It dawned on her, belatedly, what they were _sure_ to squabble over next.

“Right,” said Ben. “Who’s ‘avin Polly?”

“Excuse me?” said Polly, indignant. She hadn’t expected him to be quite so blunt about it.

He wasn’t even listening to her. “Spose we could toss a coin for it. It’s the only fair way.”

“You’re _not_ tossing a coin for me!” snapped Polly.

“Oh, come off it, Pol,” said Ben. “I’m just trying to be fair.”

“No, she’s right,” said Jamie. “That’s nae fair at all. Let her pick.”

“We really ought to hurry things up,” said the Doctor, glancing over his shoulder at the impatient guards. “Polly?”

She looked at each of them in turn, her face flushing. It wasn’t fair at all. If Ben’d just asked her to begin with, she’d probably have said yes, but now that’d he’d been so rude – she had half a mind to pick the Doctor, since he seemed the safest choice, but – oh, she gave up. “Toss the coin,” she said, her voice half a snarl. 

Ben had already rooted through his pockets for one. He turned it in his hand, looking puzzled. “How’d you toss a coin between three, anyway?” he said.

“Never mind that,” said the Doctor. He nodded at Ben and Jamie. “You two toss. Here, I’ll take the coin.” He snatched it away from Ben and looked at Jamie. “Heads or tails?”

“Eh?” said Jamie.

“Oh, never mind,” said the Doctor. He turned to Ben.

“Heads,” said Ben confidently.

The Doctor tossed the coin crisply. It was over in moments. “Tails,” he said. “You win, Jamie.”

“Oh, come off it,” said Ben, utterly dismayed. “You mean –”

“Do come along,” said the Doctor, taking him by the arm and leading him towards the guards.

“I ain’t marrying _you_ ,” said Ben.

“Would you really rather have your head cut off?” said the Doctor, then to Ben’s indignant squawk, “oh, did I not mention the decapitation? It’s traditional. They’re a very traditional people.”

“Really, I didn’t bloomin’ _notice_.”

Seeing them neatly paired up, the guards parted, releasing Ben and the Doctor into the custody of the high priestess – or at least, the priestess in the tallest headdess – and looked accusingly at Polly and Jamie.

“Spose we’d best get this over with,” said Jamie.

“Yes, let’s,” said Polly. She let him take her by the wrist and lead her out into the gardens. “Hullo,” she said to the guards, trying to sound confident. “We’d like to get married, please.” They gave her a blank stare and ushered her forward.

There was music playing somewhere nearby, but they couldn’t see the musicians – or any people, for that matter – for the walls and hedges. She slipped her wrist out of Jamie’s grip and tried to look as if she knew what she was doing.

Jamie inclined his head towards her and said softly, “ye don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind?” said Polly. She was startled at the idea that she might be upset with _him_ , of all people, rather than Ben for tossing a coin over her or the Doctor for getting them into this mess in the first place. “No. It’s not as if it means anything.”

The path opened out into – Polly supposed it was the temple. Maybe the whole garden was the temple. She’d yet to see any buildings at all. It was a round, walled space, open to the sky, the ground grassy. In the centre was a roughly carved fountain. There were no flowers or bushes, and no ornamentation to speak of. Polly had a sense that that was what made it more sacred.

The high priestess was saying something that from the tone of her voice was probably an order. Polly caught _feet_ , and not much else. “I’m sorry?” she said, dazed.

“Shoes off,” said the Doctor. Polly hastened to obey, stepping out of her pumps. Beside her Jamie crouched and fumbled with his laces. He was still fumbling nervously when an acolyte came by and swept up all their shoes.

“Are we going to get those back?” said Pollly while the acolyte tapped her foot. “Those are my good pumps –” Jamie got his shoes off at last, and the acolyte swooped away, her arms full of footwear.

“Don’t think you’ll be seeing them again, Duchess,” said Ben. Polly ignored him and curled her toes into the grass, which was about as soft as it looked.

Next they were instructed to stand by the fountain, but somehow they managed to do that wrong. A guard pounced on Polly and Jamie, manhandling them to put Jamie on the right and Polly on the left, so quickly that they were left a little dazed. The guard moved on to the Doctor and Ben, evidently meaning to do the same to them, but paused, puzzled. She babbled something in the funny thick accent that Polly still couldn’t make head nor tail of. When she was finished, the Doctor said, “ah.”

“What’d she say?” said Ben.

“It’s a little hard to explain,” said the Doctor. “It doesn’t translate well. She wants to know which of us is – there isn’t really a word in English. I suppose the closest would be – well, bride.”

Polly didn’t skip a beat. “This one,” she said, pointing emphatically at Ben. “This one’s the bride.”

“Polly!” said Ben, appalled. She flashed him a quick smile, and turned back to Jamie, who was sniggering.

He sobered up quickly when he realised that being the ‘groom’ meant he was expected to lead the ceremony, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to start, save that it probably involved the cup he’d just been handed. “What do I do?” he said, twisting round to talk to the Doctor.

The Doctor gestured for him to face Polly. “Just follow me,” he said.

“I cannae see you!”

“Just do your best,” the Doctor said soothingly.

Fortunately, Polly could see what he was doing, more or less. “You’re supposed to fill it up,” she said, nodding at the fountain.

“Hmm?” said Jamie. His eyes flicked to the fountain. “Oh!” He thrust the cup into the path of the falling water, where it filled slowly, because the fountain was pouring out such a fine spray. When at last both cups were full, the Doctor caught Polly’s eye and made sure she could see the next part.

“Now you drink from it,” said Polly. Jamie did so, looking more than a little relieved that the ceremony was proving so simple.

The next bit was more than a little awkward, though. Once he’d finished drinking, the Doctor held the cup out, raising it to Ben’s lips. Polly could see the tips of Ben’s ears flushing red at the awkwardly romantic gesture, and it was all she could do to direct Jamie without giggling. “Now I drink from it,” she said, and when he made to hand the cup to her, “no, you hold it.” Jamie’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he lifted the cup. Polly drank a few sips of the water, which tasted very clean and slightly sweet. Almost as soon as she was finished, the priestess in the tall hat started talking very quickly.

“What’s she saying?” Ben said.

“She’s blessing us,” said the Doctor.

“Does that mean we’re finished?” said Jamie, twisting around to look at the Doctor again. The Doctor motioned for him to look at Polly, so apparently they weren’t.

Not quite. Once the high priestess finished speaking, a pair of acolytes came forward, bearing two coils of rope. They went for Polly and Jamie first. One of them took their hands, a little roughly, and brought their wrists together; the other efficiently wound the rope about them and tied it off. It was over so fast that by the time Polly realised what they were doing, she and Jamie were already tied together.

The acolytes brandished their second coil of rope and moved towards Ben and the Doctor. Ben began to protest. The Doctor shushed him and smiled a placating smile. Polly stared at her and Jamie’s bound wrists in exasperation. It wasn’t especially uncomfortable – the rope was snug, but soft, and the knots tied with care so as not to cut into their skin – but she hoped they didn’t have to stay this way for long.

The tying together was evidently the final stage of the ceremony, for once the Doctor and Ben were secure they were free to go, or rather free to be ushered away, through an archway into the temple gardens.

There, at last, were all the people – or rather, all the newlyweds – or rather, all the _other_ newlyweds. There were hundreds of couples, maybe thousands, lounging and walking and dancing about the gardens, in all shapes and sizes. There was music playing, though she still couldn’t see the musicians, and flags flapping all over the place like streamers. It had the air of a party, filled with partygoers dressed a little like flower children.

“Well, congratulations, everyone,” said the Doctor brightly. 

“Congratulations yourself,” said Polly. A passing couple, a tall man and woman in matching pink frocks, echoed her brightly. “Do you think they actually believed we were here to get married?”

“I doubt they cared,” said the Doctor, inspecting the knotted rope on his wrist with interest. “I don’t think they wanted to behead us. They’re very gentle people, really.”

“Can we take this off now?” said Ben, hoisting up his hand to show off the carefully knotted rope.

“I’m not sure,” said the Doctor. He looked around at the revelers. “I think perhaps we’re meant to wear it for the duration.

“How long’s the duration?” said Polly doubtfully.

“Till sunset, I think,” said the Doctor. He squinted up at the sky, trying to ascertain the time, and must have felt it was a reasonable time, for he said, “I don’t see why we shouldn’t stay a while.”

“Oh, come on,” said Ben. “I’m not staying tied to you all day.”

“It wouldn’t be _all_ day,” said the Doctor. “I’m sure you could put up with it for a little while. I’m _dying_ to get a look round the gardens. I’m told they have a wonderful collection of –”

“I ain’t doing it,” said Ben.

Jamie was looking at his own wrist with more than a little trepidation. “Are you alright?” asked Polly.

“Hmm? Aye, I think so. How are you?”

“A bit startled,” she said. The Doctor and Ben were still bickering. “Do you want to leave?” It wasn’t as if they couldn’t quietly go back to the TARDIS and unfasten the ropes there.

Jamie looked at the rope about their wrists. He looked at the green, lush gardens, and the revelling newlyweds. He looked at the kites still dancing above them. “I dinnae mind if you don’t.”

“That’s settled, then,” said the Doctor, though Polly didn’t think he was replying to Jamie. “We’re staying. Come along, I want to see the rose garden.” He was off, dragging Ben across the lawn, ignoring his squawks of protest.

“When will we see you?” Jamie called after them.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find each other!” the Doctor called back. He vanished through a leafy archway, Ben dragged after him a moment later.

So there was Polly, alone with Jamie. She couldn’t think of a time she’d been alone with him before, let alone tied to him for a whole day. She allowed herself a moment to reflect on the circumstances that had left her standing on an alien world, married to an eighteenth century Scotsman who was, if anything, even more bemused by the whole affair than she was.

“We’re no’ _really_ married, are we?” he said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t _think_ so,” said Polly doubtfully. “I mean, it’s not exactly legally binding, is it?” She thought for a moment. “Or not anywhere but here.” Jamie looked blank. “What I mean to say is we’re only married as long as we stay on this planet.”

“Oh aye,” said Jamie. “That makes sense.” At some point they’d started walking, drifted along the soft grass. Now that they’d stopped talking, it seemed impossible to hold their bound hands in a comfortable position.

“It might be easiest if we just held hands,” said Polly, for that was what most of the couples seemed to be doing. Jamie hesitated. “I mean, we are _married_.”

“Aye, alright,” said Jamie, taking her hand. It took a moment longer to adjust their grip so that the rope sat right, but then at last they were comfortable, and still ambling along. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” said Polly. “I thought you knew.”

“I was following you!” Jamie protested. “Och, t’hell with this. Do you want to find out what people drink around these parts?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Polly. “I’m thirsty.” Not to mention sorely in need of a drink. 

Jamie looked around till he saw a couple emerging from an archway with cups in hand, and nodded. “This way.” He sounded far more confident than he had any right to be.

As they walked towards the archway, he squinted up at the kites overhead. “What’re,” he began, and made to point, unthinkingly using the hand that was tied to Polly. He let it drop back to his side and made a half-hearted motion to use his free hand before nodding. “What _are_ those?”

“They’re kites,” said Polly. “People fly them,” she added lamely.

“Eh?” said Jamie.

Polly pointed at the kite-flyers. “With strings. See?” She saw his eyes light up as he understood.

“I get it,” he said. “Why –” He broke off, turning to watch a passing couple, neck craning. Two young woman, both of them younger than Polly, bound at the wrist and dressed entirely in something pink and gauzy draped about their middles that left nothing whatsoever to the imagine. “Those two’ve got no clothes on,” he said, dazed.

“Stop gawping,” Polly scolded. “You’re a married man.”

“Eh?” Jamie turned back to face her, then looked at their bound hands. “Oh aye!” At the look on his face, Polly began to laugh, the true ridiculousness of their situation finally setting in. Jamie quickly joined her, and they laughed all across the lawn to the hedges.

Beyond the archway, to her relief, was the refreshments table, or at least what she would call a refreshments table. There was food, most of it very odd looking, and jugs of what at first sight she thought was wine, but once she had a cup in her hand smelled quite different. “What d’you suppose it is?” Jamie sniffed it dubiously.

“Let’s find out.” Polly raised the cup. “Cheers!” She took a sip. It was sweet, far sweeter than she had expected, and it tasted like berries. It also had enough of a kick to it to make her cough. 

“That’s good,” said Jamie, sounding surprised.

“It is, isn’t it?” said Polly. “Mind you, we probably shouldn’t drink too much. We don’t want to make this more awkward than it already is.” 

Jamie looked blank for a moment, then understood. “Oh, aye. No. That would be bad.” He motioned with his cup towards the next archway in the hedgerow. “Shall we see what’s through there?”

What was through there turned out to be a long, rapidly-flowing canal, criss-crossed here and there with bridges. There was a pair of young men sitting nearby, feet dangling in the river, both quite naked, who offered hearty and mostly comprehensible congratulations to Jamie and Polly as they passed. “Yes,” said Polly, “congratulations to you, too!” One of the men raised a cup to her. 

They were both so gorgeous. She tore her gaze away from their perfect muscles and smooth skin, damp from a recent dip in the canal, and looked at Jamie, only to find him giving the men the same wide-eyed look he’d given the girls in pink gauze. His head snapped away, and he sped up.

“What’d you make of that?” he said once they were hopefully out of earshot, trotting across one of the little bridges.

“I’m not sure,” said Polly. It wasn’t something she’d ever given much thought to, before meeting the Doctor. Once the Doctor had expressed surprise on hearing that it was still illegal when she and Ben were from, then said something vague about getting his dates muddled up.

“Are they really married?” said Jamie. “I mean, it’s no’ like they – no’ like a man and a woman?”

“I don’t know,” said Polly. “I think marriage means something a bit different here.” She considered further. “But not _that_ different.” They reached the next bridge and began to cross the canal again.

Jamie sipped his drink, ruminating. He glanced back over his shoulder at the couple, still visible behind them. Best as Polly could see they were nuzzling at each other, or possibly kissing. “Where I come from you could get strung up for that,” he said, but he didn’t say it as an admonishment, or a criticism. He said it with the same marvelling tone that he’d used when he’d learned about indoor plumbing or television or penicillin. Something he’d never have thought of, but still a clear improvement.

She changed the subject. “Look at those!” she said, pointing at the birds swimming in the canal a little way downstream. 

They were big things, about the size of swans, but with plumage in glossy black and startling red and yellow. They looked up at Polly and Jamie, standing on the bridge above them, with disinterest. “They’re a bit like ducks,” said Polly. “I feel like we ought to be feeding them.”

“Feeding them?” said Jamie.

“You know,” said Polly. “Feeding them bread.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realised that he probably didn’t know.

“Why?” he said, sounding honestly baffled.

“I don’t actually know,” said Polly. “It’s just what you do. It’s fun.”

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie, half-leaning on the handrail. He still sounded dubious, but less so. “If you say so.” He considered it a little further, then said, “I think there was bread, back where we got the drinks.”

“Oh, was there?” said Polly. She’d been distracted by all the funny-looking alien delicacies.

“Aye, I think so,” said Jamie. “Shall we go see?”

They wandered back to the refreshment table, where there was indeed bread. It was more like baguette or something like it than the bread Polly was used to, and Jamie ate half of it on the walk back to the bridge. “There’ll be none left for the ducks,” said Polly.

“The ducks look fat enough as it is,” said Jamie. “’Sides, I dinnae think they’re ducks.”

Ducks or not, they squabbled over the bread just the same. Polly fed them while Jamie stood juggling both their half-empty cups in his free hand. His other hand was atop Polly’s, which was atop the railing. “I used to do this in the park every Sunday,” she said, suddenly wistful. Though the last time she’d fed ducks she hadn’t been a little girl. She’d been out on a date – not that it had gone anywhere.

“Still dinnae see the point,” said Jamie, but he was half-smiling. For a dizzying moment, Polly almost felt like she was on a date – but they weren’t in a park, and they weren’t ducks. They were on an alien world, lightyears away from home, and besides, it was _Jamie_. Jamie was like – like a little brother. 

“It’s good fun,” said Polly, resolute.

“You do strange things for fun,” Jamie said.

It occurred to Polly that she had no idea what Jamie used to do for _fun_ , before meeting the Doctor. She’d seen a sliver of his life, but she got the feeling it had been as wild and off-kilter for him as travelling with the Doctor. He must have done _something_ before he was a Jacobite. She was about to ask, though she wasn’t at all sure how to phrase it, when quite to her surprise he beat her to it. “I dinnae really ken anything about what you used to do,” he said. “You never talk about it.”

She supposed she didn’t. It had never occurred to her that she and Ben didn’t talk about their lives before meeting the Doctor. Their lives had been so different, but compared to everything else they were familiar and made sense, and there was never much need to talk about it. “I suppose it doesn’t really come up,” she said. “There’s so much else to talk about.

“I suppose,” said Jamie. “Hey, where’d you think the Doctor and Ben have got to?”

“Oh, goodness knows,” said Polly. She tossed the last of their bread to the birds and dusted the crumbs off her hand on her skirt. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.” Jamie maneuvered her cup back into her hand, and she took a swig, wincing at the aftertaste.

Another couple was ambling down the path beside the canal, calling out a greeting to Jamie and Polly. They were both women, these ones fully dressed in robes that fell to their knees. “D’you suppose _they’re_ married-married?” said Jamie, nodding at them. “Like a man and a woman?”

“I assume so.” Polly drained her cup.

“What would they even _do_ ,” said Jamie, puzzled.

“Well, I,” said Polly, but stopped short when she realised she didn’t know either. “I’m sure they have ways,” she assured him. “Anyway, I don’t know about you, but I could use another drink.”

Jamie looked down into his cup, then drained it. “Aye. Alright.”

They held hands on their way back down the path, Jamie inspecting the knots. “No offence, mind,” he said, “but I’m getting sick of this already, and by my reckoning it’s barely after noon.” He squinted up at the sun. “Or unless the sun’s different here. Then I don’t know how long it is till sun-down.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to pass the time,” said Polly. She was finding herself in quite good spirits. The booze was probably helping – and would continue to help, as they filled their cups again.

For a while, they wandered the gardens, looping about through the archways, along the winding paths, looking at the trees and the brilliantly coloured flowers, and at the other couples. After a few drinks, walking around whilst tied together began to prove difficult, and they found a comfortable spot beneath a tree to while away the evening. “Oh, my,” said Polly as she got settled. “It’s a bit like a three-legged race.”

“A what?” said Jamie, balancing the jug the acolyte had given them on a flat spot by the tree trunk.

“Oh, it’s a game for children,” said Polly. “You pair up and tie your legs together, and then you race.”

“Why’s it called a three-legged race?” said Jamie, puzzled.

“Because when you have your legs tied together, it’s like you’ve only got three between you,” said Polly. “Look.” She shifted her leg over beside Jamie’s and counted them off. “Like this. One, two, three.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Jamie. He balanced his cup beside the jug and attempted to fill it, then filled Polly’s.

“Today’s been quite nice, hasn’t it?” said Polly. Jamie grunted, still trying to keep the cup ad jug steady. “Mind you, it’s not really how I pictured my wedding day.”

“Me neither,” said Jamie. He handed Polly her cup.

“You saw yourself getting married, then?” For half a moment she was almost startled – but really, of course he would.

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie.

“To anyone in particular?” Jamie shrugged. “I suppose I never really asked. If you had anyone.”

“No,” said Jamie after a pause. Polly wondered, briefly, if he was telling the truth. She wondered if she really knew Jamie. She knew so little about him. She didn’t know him the way she’d known her friends back in London, true, but she trusted him – and Ben – in a way she’d not trusted her old friends. “I suppose you didn’t, either.”

“No, not really,” said Polly. “I mean, I’ve had boyfriends. But no.”

“I wonder about you sometimes,” said Jamie. “I ken Ben’s a sailor. I dinnae ken what you used to do.”

“I was a secretary,” said Polly, and began to stumble through an explanation. “Typing, and filing – organising papers, I mean. It was all a bit dull. But it was my job, and I miss it, and I – even if I get home, I won’t be able to go back to it. It’s a bit of a long story, but the people I was working for – it all got a bit unpleasant.”

“Aye, Ben told me a bit about that,” said Jamie. “Sounds like a nasty business.” He was toying with his cup, swilling the liquid around inside. “Do you have any family?”

“Two older brothers,” said Polly. 

“D’you miss them?”

“I don’t think about them much,” said Polly. “It’s difficult, not knowing if I’ll ever see them again.” She paused. “Do you miss home?”

It took Jamie a while to answer. “Aye,” he said. “But I – I’m no’ sure I was ever going home.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Polly. She squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, but smiled at her. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m glad I met you, and Ben, and the Doctor.”

“I’m glad we met you, too,” said Polly.

The afternoon wore on into evening. The musicians stopped playing, the music replaced by the soft sounds of the gardens and of people talking and laughing. The gaudy sky faded to orange and pink. “Alright,” said Polly, “do you have something?”

“Aye, I think so,” Jamie said.

“Alright then,” said Polly, sipping her drink. “Is it vegetable?” Jamie said it wasn’t. “Animal?”

Jamie’s face screwed up in mild confusion. “I dinnae _think_ so.”

“So it’s mineral, then?” Polly said. Jamie still looked confused. She suspected he was losing the thread of the game already, but she persevered. “If it’s not animal or vegetable it must be mineral.”

“Oh, aye. Mineral.”

“Is it,” said Polly, struggling for another question. “Is it something made of metal?”

“No,” said Jamie, still sounding uncertain.

“Is it made of stone?” Polly tried.

“No,” said Jamie, surer this time. Polly soldiered bravely on along that line of questioning, but he just kept on saying no, with varying degrees of certainty.

“What’s it made of, then?” said Polly. “It must be made of _something_.”

“Hey, you said just yes and no questions,” said Jamie. “You’re no’ playing by the rules.”

“I’m not sure you are either!” Polly cried. “Look, you said it was mineral. So it must be made of something.”

“Aye,” said Jamie slowly. He considered this. “Polly?”

“Yes?” Polly said.

“What’s mineral?” Polly sighed in expasperation and drained her cup yet again. “I’m no’ playing the game right, am I?”

“Not really,” said Polly.

“Sorry,” said Jamie. “Shall we try again?”

“Oh, what’s the use,” said Polly. “It must be almost sunset, now, anyway. There’s not much time to pass.”

Jamie squinted up at the orange and pink sky. “’Spose we’re not married for much longer, then.”

“No, I suppose not,” said Polly. She shifted, settling back against the tree. “You know something? I’m glad I married you, and not Ben or the Doctor.”

“Aye, me too,” said Jamie, settling next to her. “And nae just because you’re the only girl.”

Polly giggled. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to marry Ben. It’d have been weird.”

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie. “Because you and Ben –” He stopped short. “What _are_ you and Ben?”

“I don’t know,” said Polly. “Oh, I don’t know.” She thought a moment. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Aye, I see how it is,” said Jamie. “Or I think I do, anyway.” He leaned back against the tree, resting his head upon the smooth bark. “Hey, Polly?”

“Hmm?”

“If we’re married a wee bit longer, don’t suppose you fancy making the best of it?”

Polly stared at him, not immediately understanding his meaning. The look on his face was altogether innocent. Then she got it, and her eyes widened. “Jamie!” she exclaimed. “Oh, you –” She lunged for him.

“Och, I was joking!” said Jamie, trying to dodge, hampered by the binding. Polly thumped him hard on the arm. “I was _joking_. Mostly. Ow.” He rubbed his arm, still grinning.

It wasn’t as if people weren’t at it already. There seemed to be an area of the gardens set aside for that purpose, even. But it wasn’t as if she could – not with _Jamie_. He was far too young for her, and even if he wasn’t he wasn’t at all her type. “That was very rude,” she said, tossing her hair, mostly being facetious.

“Sorry,” said Jamie, only slightly cowed. 

All the yanking about had pulled them still closer together. Polly lifted up her empty cup for Jamie to fill with the dregs of the jug. “Let’s play another game,” she said.

“What game?” said Jamie.

“Let’s play,” said Polly. “Let’s play – I spy.”

“How’d you play that?” said Jamie.

“Oh, it’s easy,” said Polly. “Here, I’ll go first. I spy – I spy something beginning with, with – Ben!” 

“Oh, aye. There he is,” said Jamie.

Ben, and the Doctor, processing across the lawn towards them. The Doctor waved cheerily as he approached. Ben looked positively sullen. “There you are!” said the Doctor. “This is where you wandered off to, is it?”

“Wandered off?” said Polly. “ _You’re_ the ones who wandered off.”

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, indignant. “ _We’ve_ been right here.”

“Yes. We’ve been having an awfully nice time without you,” said Polly. She took a swig of her drink, then collapsed into giggles at the look on Ben’s face. Jamie quickly joined her, snorting out his laughter.

“Honestly,” said Ben. “I’ve been dragged all over these gardens, getting a bloomin’ lecture about every bloomin’ bush and flower in the whole bloomin’ place, and you two’ve been sitting ‘ere – _boozin’_.”

“Who’s boozing?” said Polly, sipping her drink. “I’m not drunk. I’m just a bit silly.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Jamie.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was looking with interest at Polly and Jamie’s tree. He made a move as if to examine it, but Ben yanked on the rope, tugging him back the other way. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, and threw himself down on the ground beside Jamie, dragging the Doctor down with him.

“Oh, really,” said the Doctor. 

“I’m bored rigid,” said Ben.

“Don’t be like that,” said the Doctor. “We’ve had a nice time. Haven’t we?” He patted Ben’s knee in a manner that was either meant to be friendly or husbandly. Either way, Polly fell right back into giggling.

“ _You’ve_ had a nice time, maybe,” said Ben. He looked at the cup Jamie was holding. “Is there any more of that?”

Jamie looked at the jug, which was empty. He offered Ben his mostly-full cup. “You have this. I’ve had enough of it.”

Ben took a sip, and winced. “Watch it, Duchess,” he said. “It’s no wonder you’re squiffy.”

“I am _not_ ,” said Polly, “ _squiffy_.”

“Look out,” said the Doctor suddenly. “The sun’s setting.”

It was, rather. Setting rapidly, the sky breaking into bands of red and gold. The light around them turned pinkish. Polly had seen some impressive sunsets since she’d met the Doctor, but this one was something truly special. The sun pulled the colours out of the sky as if it was drawing down a multi-coloured curtain, leaving behind a deep, vivid blue – the colour of the sky on earth at twilight, or just after dawn. The four of them sat in near-silence until it was over.

“Is that it over, then?” said Jamie at length. He sounded a touch disappointed, and Polly found herself flattered.

“I think almost,” said the Doctor. “They –” Probably he was about to warn Jamie what came next, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence. There came a loud _bang_ nearby, and another, and another. Jamie flinched, squishing up closer to Polly. “Fireworks, Jamie,” said the Doctor, nodding at the sky, where the fireworks were leaving multi-coloured streaks of light across the heavens.

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie as if he’d known all along. Polly felt him relax.

“Happy moon-goddess festival, everyone,” said the Doctor brightly. “Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten what it’s called.”

The fireworks died down, and around them a cheer went up. Polly could hear people singing. “Right.” Ben drained his – or rather, Jamie’s – cup. “Can we go back to the TARDIS now?”

“If we must,” said the Doctor with an air of resignation. “Up we go, then.” He gave Ben a moment to unfold himself, then hauled them both upright.

It took Jamie and Polly a while longer to stand up, given the difficulty presented by the binding and their state of inebriation.

The four of them ambled on back to the TARDIS, through the steadily darkening gardens, the coloured lanterns seeming to dance about them in the trees. Most of the newlyweds didn’t pay any attention to them – too wrapped up in each other – but a few wished them a last, hearty congratulations, which the Doctor returned cheerfully.

The moon was coming out – or rather, the moons, three of them, in various shades of cream and pinkish. Ben was alternating between squinting up at them and watching where he put his feet. “Where are we, then?”

“Halfway across the galaxy from earth,” said the Doctor. “This was an earth colony, once, but that was oh, tens of thousands of years ago – I’m not sure they even remember where they came from.”

Polly looked up at the sky, feeling dreadfully small. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation, not any more, but still she struggled to get used to it. Tens of thousands of years – that was longer, she thought, longer than history as she knew it. 

The path back to the TARDIS took them up a rise, beyond the trees, and suddenly they could look down upon the gardens, scattered with coloured lights and people. So many people. She hadn’t realised quite how many there were, till she saw them all sitting still. “Och, all those weddings,” said Jamie beside her – half to himself, she thought. “Think of all the bairns they’ll have between them.”

“And all the arguments,” said Polly, which made them both giggle. But all the good days, as well. All the children, and the grandchildren. All those people, starting out their lives, and she and Ben and Jamie passed through, like – like ghosts. She wondered if Jamie was thinking the same thing, or something else altogether, or if he was just thinking how much he wanted to get back to the TARDIS and get untied.

“I’m glad we landed here,” he said as they tripped back down the rise.

“So am I.” The TARDIS loomed into sight, familiar and boxily out of place amidst the forest. Ahead, the Doctor was already attempting to unlock it, fumbling for the key. Whichever pocket was in he couldn’t seem to get at with his free hand, so by the time Polly and Jamie reached them, Ben had his hand tucked inside the Doctor’s inside pocket, groping about.

“Think I’ve got it,” he was saying. He glanced up. “You took your time, Duchess.”

“Are we in a hurry?” said Polly.

Ben brought the key out triumphantly and handed it to the Doctor, who took it with a flourish, both of them evidently satisfied with their teamwork. With a _click_ the TARDIS was unlocked, and the Doctor and Ben were edging in sideways.

“I’m bloody sick of this,” Ben said, flapping his bound hand about while the Doctor shut the doors behind Jamie and Polly. “Can we _please_ take it off now?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” said the Doctor. “Hold still a moment.” He fumbled with the knots binding him to Ben, struggling almost at once. “Ah. They’ve been quite thorough, haven’t they?”

“Let me ‘ave a go,” said Ben. But even he couldn’t seem to get it unfastened for all his skill with knots, though perhaps that was because he only had his left hand free.

“Bit beyond you?” said Polly.

“Alright, rub it it why don’t you,” said Ben. “I think we’re going to ‘ave to cut this off.” Jamie, picking vainly at his and Polly’s knots, mumurred in agreement.

“I don’t suppose anyone has a knife?” said the Doctor.

“Aye, I’ve got one,” said Jamie. He went to reach for it, and almost sent himself and Polly off balance. “It’s, um, in my boot.” He indicated his left foot.

“I’ll get it, shall I?” said the Doctor, tugging Ben over. They both crouched awkwardly on the floor, the Doctor working Jamie’s knife out of his shoe. At length, he said, “aha!” and held it aloft proudly.

“Och, give that to me,” said Jamie. Polly had to held him keep steady enough to cut through the cords without hurting Ben or the Doctor – but then, at last, they were free. Ben staggered backwards with a sigh of relief, tugging the last of the rope off his wrist and dropping it to the floor.

“Never again,” he said darkly.

“I didn’t think I was _that_ bad company,” said the Doctor, accepting the knife from Jamie and making much quicker work of his and Polly’s binding.

The rope fell away with a _snap_ , leaving Polly’s arm feeling light, as if it might drift upwards on its own accord, like it had been held close to her side. Jamie was rubbing his wrist awkwardly. “That it, then?” he said.

“It certainly looks like it,” said the Doctor, sheaving Jamie’s knife and handing it back. Jamie took it and bid a hasty retreat.

“Aye, well in that case I’ve got some business to take care of,” he said, sidling out of the console room. The Doctor watched him go, visibly confused.

“We drank quite a bit,” said Polly helpfully. Though she found herself sobering up quickly, now she was in the TARDIS.

“Wish I’d had more,” said Ben.

Polly ignored him. “Anyway, if it’s all the same to you I think I’d like some time to myself,” she said. 

“Oh yes, yes, run along,” said the Doctor, waving her away as if she needed his permission.

Ben caught her just down the corridor – caught her by the same wrist that had so recently been tied to Jamie. “Alright, Duchess?” he said, though by the look on his face he’d been going to say something else altogether.

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” Polly made to pull away.

“Look, you and Jamie,” he began, but whatever he was going to say next he either thought better of or wasn’t sure how to put. Polly didn’t realise at once what he was getting at, but when she did she found herself even more mortified than when Jamie had suggested it.

She snatched her wrist out of his hand. But the mortification passed quickly, and she found herself more amused than anything else. “You’re not jealous, are you, Ben Jackson?” she said. “Of _Jamie_?”

“Well, you were married!” Ben protested.

“No, we were _not_ ,” said Polly. “We weren’t anything of the sort, and you know it. You’re just – _ooh_.” Furious, she turned to march away, but he caught her again.

“Alright,” he said. “Alright, look. I’m sorry, Pol. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I was being a right –”

“Yes, you were,” Polly said flatly. “Anyway, Jamie’s a sweetheart, but he’s far too young for me.”

“Yeah, I ‘spose he would be,” said Ben. “Look, we’re alright, aren’t we?”

Polly considered. “More or less,” she said. She wanted to say _buy me a drink and we’ll call it even_ , but she found she didn’t quite have the nerve.

From the console room there came the grating sound of the TARDIS dematerialising, startling them both. “There we go again,” said Ben. “Off to God knows where.”

“I suppose two nice places in a row would be too much to ask for,” said Polly.

“Do you even ‘ave to ask?” said Ben. He stretched out his arms, rolling his shoulders. “Right. I need some time apart from ‘imself before I lose my mind. I’ll see you in the morning, shall I?”

“Yes. In the morning,” Polly echoed. She watched him amble away down the corridor, then, in something of a change of heart, slipped back the way she’d come.

She poked her head around the door of the control room, where the Doctor was still fussing over the console. “Oh, there you are, Polly.”

“I just came to say good-night,” she said.

“Yes, yes. Good-night.” He’d stopped whatever he was doing and was looking at her mildly. Did he want her to leave him to it? She could never tell.

She’d been going to say something – something about Ben, but she couldn’t think how to put it into words. Then she was going to ask him if he’d ever get them home – not soon, just some time. She didn’t want to go home – just to touch base, to make sure it was still there. She wasn’t sure where her sudden bout of homesickness was coming from either. Maybe it was talking to Jamie about home. Maybe it was seeing some ordinary life for a change. Maybe it was the drink. In any case, she didn’t know how to ask without being rude.

She settled for, “Did you have a nice day?”

He smiled, seemingly pleased to be asked for once. “Yes, Polly, I did,” he said. He looked down at the console. “You and Jamie seemed very cosy.”

“It was nice,” Polly said, which didn’t really encompass the full oddness of the day they’d had, but would do. “I had a talk with Ben. About what he said earlier.”

“Oh, yes?” The Doctor adjusted a dial, then changed his mind and turned it back. “I trust he’s suitably chastened?”

“He said he was sorry,” Polly said resolutely.

“That’ll do,” said the Doctor with a fond smile.

Polly leaned in the doorway, considering. “Next time I get married, I’m doing it properly,” she said.

“Quite right too,” the Doctor agreed.

“I mean it,” said Polly. “Never do this to me again.”

“I shan’t,” said the Doctor, wearing a hang-dog expression, as if the thought had never crossed his mind and the notion was inconceivable. “Promise.”

“Alright,” said Polly, levering herself away from the doorframe. All the drinking was beginning to catch up with her. She was getting sleepy. “In that case, I shall see you in the morning. Good-night.”

“Good-night, Polly,” he called to her as she left the room.

By breakfast the next morning, it was apparent that Ben had elected to pretend the whole thing had never happened. The Doctor was cheerily following suit, so she and Jamie did likewise – though he shot her a look of fond amusement over his porridge, as if to say _can you believe these two?_ and she smiled back as if to say _I know, aren’t they just priceless_.

It was odd, she thought as she surveyed the people around the kitchen table – Jamie still sleepy-eyed and hungover, the Doctor gesticulating merrily over his tea, Ben scooping cooked breakfast onto her plate with a cheerful _here you go, Duchess_ – it was odd, for none of them were the kind of people she’d have been friends with at home. She’d stumbled into this funny new life so unexpectedly, and it was downright bizarre how normal it was starting to feel. A few weeks ago Jamie had been holding them at knifepoint, yesterday they’d been married, and now here he was eating breakfast with them. She was filled with a sudden rush of affection for them, her funny little family – and then Ben said, “tuck in, Duchess, before it gets cold,” and the moment passed.

**Author's Note:**

> (Incidentally, Jamie's 'animal, vegetable, or mineral' was the TARDIS.)


End file.
